


Fear I thru III

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-05
Updated: 2001-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Okay, this is a little different. Definitely AU, Mulder finds himself thrown into prison and meets a powerful con named Walter Skinner. This first part is a bit grim, but trust Mulder-no one can resist him, right?





	Fear I thru III

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Fear 1 By Tesa

Hi guys. Here's a new one - a weird little idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Hope you enjoy, more to come someday...

Fear 1  
By Tesa  
  
DATE: May 11, 2001  
RATING: NC-17   
CATEGORY: Slash, M/SK, AU, rape  
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television. This is a not-for-profit fictional excursion. Thank you very much.  
SUMMARY: Okay, this is a little different. Definitely AU, Mulder finds himself thrown into prison and meets a powerful con named Walter Skinner. This first part is a bit grim, but trust Mulder-no one can resist him, right?  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
ARCHIVE: Yes

* * *

Mulder steeled himself not to respond to the heavy clang of the door behind him. He refused to give them the satisfaction, any of them.

"Walk forward," the guard ordered.

Mulder obeyed silently, keeping his eyes forward, his face impassive. His heart was beating too fast, his breath wanted to come in gasps, but he held it in. He had to be strong. He knew only too well what would happen if he didn't.

The guard paced along behind him, footsteps echoing on the concrete.

It had happened so fast. Too fast. One day he was living his life like normal-well, as normal as it ever was, and the next day he was in jail. Extortion. They had audiotapes that proved it, along with the testimony of the victim and the investigating officer. It was an open and shut case. Except for the fact that he hadn't done it. Well, he had, but he'd thought he was helping set up a sting. Yeah. He was helping set up a sting, all right-his own. 

"Stop," the guard ordered, and Mulder obeyed. The man stepped forward, opened the cell door and gestured. "There you go, Fibbie. Your new home. Enjoy."

Mulder swallowed and entered the cell, standing still as yet another door clanged shut behind him, shutting him in, shutting him down. He dumped his armful of bedding, clothes, and personal items on the empty upper bunk and faced his new cellmate. A quick scan of the other man let him relax slightly. He was small, almost six inches shorter than Mulder and thinner, too. 

Ray Smith sat on his bunk, sprawled out, smirking at the new man. He knew who he was. Everyone did. It sure was going to be fun watching the other cons tear him up. He knew they would. The only real question was why wasn't the guy in protective custody? That was usually automatic for dirty cops like this one.

Ray saw the man take a good look at him and lose some of the tension that stiffened his body, and he said, "Yeah, you don't have to worry about me, Fibbie. I'm on the bottom of the food chain around here, just like you. You ready to get eaten up?"

Despite the huge rock of fear that had taken up residence in his gut, Mulder managed a quirk of his lips. "I think I've just been insulted. What makes you think I'm not a shark?"

"You? A shark?" Ray guffawed. "Come on, man, I live here. I know what a shark looks like. You? I think you're a guppy. Or maybe even plankton."

Mulder smiled and sighed and went about fixing his bunk. "I'm Mulder. The goldfish?"

Ray laughed again. "Yeah, man, if you want to be a goldfish, you can be a goldfish. My name's Ray." He shook his head. This guy was dead meat, but he was funny. He could get a worse cellmate. Maybe he'd give him a couple pointers, help keep him alive. Maybe.

 

The next few days Mulder started settling into his new life, his new routine. He kept his eyes open and his back to the wall, when he could. He stayed close to the guards and listened to Ray, who turned out to be a veritable fount of information about everyone and everything inside. He knew he was lucky there. They could have stuck him in with some seven-foot, three-hundred pound Bubba looking for a girlfriend. 

Actually, Ray was a girlfriend, so to speak. He.took care.of an inmate called Big Ben, one of the sharks, according to Ray anyway. Mulder had seen him, all six foot five, two hundred fifty pounds of him, and had steered clear, way clear. There weren't too many others around bigger than him, and Mulder knew if a guy like that took a fancy to him, there wasn't a lot he could do about it. So he kept clear. 

As each day passed that he escaped serious injury, Mulder became more and more nervous rather than less. He'd expected to have to fight for his life a lot sooner than this, and every day that went by with no action started to scare him more and more. He got that feeling that when it did happen it was going to be bad. He was right.

They came for him in the shower. What a cliche, was his last coherent thought, as the first man connected with a right to his jaw. There were five of them, and they took turns beating him, mostly concentrating on his body, with only the occasional punishing blow to his head. They wanted him conscious, that was clear. He had landed a few of his own hits, but the surprise and then the overwhelming force soon stripped away his resistance, and he could only stand, then lie, and take it.

Finally the beating stopped, and they all stood there, panting from the effort. Mulder laid still, body curled into a ball, trying to protect the more vulnerable areas. He was dazed, wondering what they were waiting for, and then he knew. 

Hands pulled and pushed him into position, and a big, hot, male body fitted itself between his legs, and Mulder felt a hard cock penetrate his ass in one hard thrust. He groaned into the hand covering his mouth, grunting as the man began fucking him, long and hard and deep. The pain was bad, but the sheer helplessness, the utter shame of not being able to stop this, that was worse. And he knew it was only the beginning. There were four more of them. Oh, God. 

The men standing around, waiting their turn, idly stroked themselves, enjoying the sight of the helpless Fibbie being ridden hard, taking in the sounds, the loud slap of flesh against flesh, the groans and exclamations of pleasure from the rider, and the grunts and muffled cries of pain from the man being ridden. The man fucking the Fibbie buried himself to the root and came hard, filling the man's ass with his hot semen, and he laughed in pleasure. "Take that, Mr. F.B.I. Take my come up your ass, and get used to it. You're gonna be my boy from now on, gonna bend over for me and the men here, gonna suck our cocks and beg for more."

"Come on, man, it's my turn. Get offa him so I can mount the boy." The next man shoved the first man's shoulder.

"Yeah, okay." He pulled out and moved aside, letting the second man mount the boy's ass with a hard lunge and a stifled scream from the boy.

Mulder grunted in time with the thrusts tearing into his body, unable to help himself as the air was forced from his lungs rhythmically. It didn't hurt quite as bad this time. Maybe the first man's come had eased the way. Oh, God. He closed his eyes, trying to separate himself from what was happening. Come on, Mulder. You can do it. You know what to do. You've done it before. 

As the men took their turns, brutalizing Mulder's body, his mind shifted back, away from the pain and the shame and the dirtiness, and he dreamed.

A long time passed before he came back. He lay on the floor of the shower room still. He was alone. His body ached and burned, and he idly wondered if he would die from the beating and what followed. Somehow he didn't think so. They wouldn't want to cut their pleasure short like that. He wondered if he should try to move, try to get some help, but it was too much for him to even contemplate. They'd find him sooner or later. It was a prison, after all. Surely they would notice he was missing? A smile twisted his lips. He thought that the guards already knew exactly where he was and what had happened to him. They didn't take to dirty cops anymore than the cons did, he knew. There would be no help there. They'd keep him alive, though. Probably. He drifted away again.

 

He spent several days in the infirmary before they released him back to his cell, good as new. Sure. Mulder climbed onto his bunk, lying back gingerly. He'd been right. They hadn't damaged him too much. He was spectacularly bruised and sore as hell, but overall, they hadn't done any serious damage. Even his ass hadn't needed any surgery, for which he was damned thankful. 

"How ya doin', Mulder?" Ray finally asked.

The man couldn't keep quiet for long. "They took the first bite, Ray."

"Yeah, man, I heard. But you're still here, man. You're all right."

"Yeah. I'm okay."

There was a long silence. "Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"You know.they'll do it again."

Mulder took a deep breath. "I know."

"You gotta hook up with a crew, Mulder."

"Ray.what crew will take me? They all want their own bite of my ass."

Ray didn't know what to say to that. It was true. Nobody was going to tolerate a cop. He tried to think what Mulder could do. Ray had been around, he knew how to survive, but he just didn't know what could save Mulder. He didn't know when he'd changed from anticipating his own enjoyment of watching the Fibbie get chewed up to dreading it, but it had. Unlikely as it was, he liked this guy. He was smart and funny and he never talked down to Ray, like a lot of guys did. And look at him now. He just got beat and fucked to kingdom come, and he knew it was going to happen again, and he just laid there, calm as anything. Well, he'd keep thinking. There had to be some way.

"Mulder, how come you're not in P.C.? I mean, I know nobody wants to go that way, but, Jeez, if they're gonna kill your ass if you don't go, why don't you? Go, that is."

"I can't, Ray. I.have some pretty powerful enemies. I think that's why they didn't put me in P.C. to start with, and they're not going to do it now. It's.punishment."

"Oh." Ray didn't quite understand, except for the fact that there would be no help for Mulder, not from the guards. And certainly not from the other cons. They'd just step back and enjoy the show, like Ray had been planning to.

"I'd help you, Mulder, but I ain't no fighter."

"I know that, Ray, and thanks. I appreciate it. It helps that at least one person in here isn't looking forward to the next time I get taken down." 

"Yeah, man," came the soft agreement.

They gave him a few days before they came for him again. It was worse. Different men. He spent more time in the infirmary. Stitches were required this time.

He was attacked again the same day he got out of the infirmary and went right back in.

 

Mulder shuffled into his cell and stood before the bunk, trying to get the strength to climb up, but he had the feeling it wasn't going to happen.

Ray got up and silently moved his stuff to the upper bunk, making the bottom bunk up for Mulder. 

"Thanks, Ray." Mulder slowly lay back on the bunk.

"No problem, man." He looked down at his cellmate. He was thinner now than when he'd come in. He was tired and drawn. His eyes were shut now, but earlier they'd been blank and.old, somehow. The Fibbie wasn't going to make it much longer. Ray got the impression that he really didn't want to, and he couldn't blame the guy. No sooner did he stand up now then he got knocked down and fucked up. Why should he keep getting up?

"Ray." The voice was low and commanding, coming from the door.

Ray turned to look, already knowing who it was. The big man. The boss. He ran their crew, and their crew ran the prison. No con had more power inside than this man. Walter Skinner. They called him Skin. There were all kinds of stories about why other than the obvious, but no one was brave enough to ask him. Or dumb enough.

"Take a walk, Ray." The big man entered the cell, leaving the door clear. Ray swallowed. His man, Big Ben, worked for this man, and Ray wanted nothing more than to get out of there, but.he turned to look at Mulder. The man was sitting up, leaning on one hip, propped against the wall.

"It's okay, Ray. Take off." Mulder nodded.

Ray blinked, still reluctant, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do that would help Mulder now. "See ya, man."

A moment later they were alone. Both men were silent. Skin was watching Mulder closely. Mulder had his eyes trained in the big man's direction, but they were vague, unfocused. He was waiting to get hurt, Skin realized.

Skin walked closer until he stood next to the bunk, inches from Mulder. He reached out a hand and slid it around Mulder's neck, holding him through the reflexive flinch, but not tightening, not hurting.

Slowly those dull eyes sharpened and flicked up to meet Skin's questioningly.

"I'm not the type to dance around, Mulder, so I'll tell you what I want and why you'll give it to me."

"I want your ass. Willingly. You give it to me, and I'll make sure no one else will take it." The offer was clear and straightforward. Skin waited for his answer.

Mulder's breath hitched alarmingly. He closed his eyes, still feeling the big man's hand warm and somehow.gentle.grasping his neck. He was being asked to.agree.to his own rape. No, more than that. He was being asked to become this man's whore. Sex for protection. He thought about that. God help him, he thought about it.

No more beatings. No more getting bent over and fucked in the shower room. No more.fear. In return---he'd lose all the self-respect he ever had. He was getting his ass kicked as it was, but at least he knew who and what he was and that they had to work for whatever they took. If he took this.bargain.he'd be giving it away. No. He opened his mouth, but Skin spoke before he could.

Skin had seen the refusal building in the man's eyes and spoke up to forestall it. "Is it worth your life, Mulder? I can see you don't want to say yes, but you have to understand that if you don't take my protection, the attacks will go on and get worse and very soon, now, you'll die. I know you can see that."

"You only have a few years in here, Mulder. Then you'll be free. Free to go anywhere, do anything you want. I doubt you'll ever see anyone from here ever again. You could probably make sure of that, if you cared about it. So is it worth it?"

"Take my protection for the rest of your time here. Even if I get tired of you in my bed, you'll still have my protection. You have my word. I'm not into pain, Mulder. I won't hurt you, not anymore than I need to."

Mulder felt the man's fingers slowly rubbing the tense muscles in his neck, and slowly relaxed. Skin wasn't hurting him. He sighed. Put that way, he had to admit that he was right. The attacks were getting worse. He was spending more and more time in the infirmary and less and less time out of it. One of those times they would get carried away and kill him. Or they would just out and out decide to do it. He didn't want to take anymore. He didn't know if he could.

Skin was right again in that his ass wasn't worth his life. Looking at the situation objectively, he'd recommend this deal to anyone. Of course he wasn't looking at the situation objectively. This was his ass they were talking about. Skin said he wouldn't hurt him. More than necessary. No more beatings. He could get with that, anyway. But he would have to cooperate. If he agreed to this, he'd have to do more than just lie there and take it. Could he do that? Well. He guessed he would have to. All right, Mulder, you've decided. Stop procrastinating already.

"All right. I'll do it."

Skin smiled slowly, and his dick throbbed. His hand held Mulder's neck firmly as he pulled the man toward him. His voice was soft but unequivocal as he said "I know your ass can't stand a fuck right now, Mulder, so I'll let you suck me off instead. Show me you're worth my protection."

One-handed, Skin pulled open his belt and pants roughly, freeing his cock with a sigh of relief.

Mulder, off balance, braced his hands on Skin's thighs, trying unsuccessfully to pull back. All too soon he found himself eye to eye, so to speak, with the big man's erection. Abruptly the pressure stopped, and both men were motionless. 

This was it. A little sooner than he'd thought, but Mulder sighed and opened his mouth. Dipping his head, he took Skin's dick in his mouth gingerly and experimentally flicked his tongue. The man hissed in pleasure and his hands went to cradle the back of Mulder's head. He didn't grasp and tug, just gently guided Mulder's head to the long, slow motion that he liked best.

Mulder tried not to think as he licked and sucked as best he could. He wasn't going all out, but he wasn't just taking it, either. Hell, he'd agreed to the bargain. It didn't take long and the big man groaned and spurted hot semen into Mulder's mouth. His hands held Mulder's head still, forcing him to swallow. Several long, slow breaths later, the hands released him.

"Thank you, Mulder. That was very good, for a first time. I'm sure you'll get better with practice. I look forward to it." His hand brushed through Mulder's hair. 

"Rest. Come with Ray to our table tonight at dinner. No one will touch you anymore, Mulder." 

It was a promise, and Mulder inhaled sharply, trying to keep a lid on the fear and the relief and the hope, the fucking hope that grabbed him and wouldn't let go. The taste of this man's semen lingered on his tongue, souring his stomach, and he knew it wouldn't be easy, but he was starting to believe that he'd live through this.

Skin left. Mulder flopped back on the bunk, trying not to think anymore. It obviously didn't do him any good. 

It wasn't too long before Ray hesitantly made his way back into the cell. "Mulder? You okay?"

There was a sigh. "Yeah, Ray. I'm okay." He didn't feel like getting into the discussion he saw coming, but he knew he couldn't avoid it. That didn't mean he had to volunteer, though, did it?

"Mulder?"

"Yeah."

"What did he want?"

Mulder swallowed. "Me."

Ray opened his mouth to ask, puzzled, then he realized. "Oh. You need to go to the infirmary?"

"No."

"Mulder, come on, man, spit it out. What's going on?"

Mulder had to laugh at that. Spit it out, right. Still smiling, he said, "Skin offered me his protection."

Ray whistled. "Jeez, man. That's something, all right. You took him up on it, didn't you? I mean, you're not that stupid, are you?"

Mulder said, "Yeah, I took him up on it. I'm supposed to come with you to their table tonight." He closed his eyes, trying to come to terms with it all. He'd just turned himself into a whore. Now he had to figure out how to live with it.

 

The end part 1

 

* * *

 

Okay, guys and gals, here's part 2. A little less pain and a little more fun...I hope.  
Tesa

Fear 2  
By Tesa  
  
DATE: May 19, 2001  
RATING: NC-17   
CATEGORY: Slash, M/SK, AU, semi-non-con  
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television. This is a not-for-profit fictional excursion. Thank you very much.  
SUMMARY: Okay, this is a little different. Definitely AU, Mulder finds himself thrown into prison and meets a powerful con named Walter Skinner. Part 2 - Mulder and Skin get to know each other a little better  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
ARCHIVE: Yes

* * *

Mulder followed Ray through the dining hall, his head held high. He forced himself to look around, to meet the other men's eyes briefly before moving on, when the only thing he wanted was to duck his head down and pretend to be invisible. He knew if he started off hiding, he'd never come out of it.

They came up to their destination, the table where Skin and Big Ben and a few more of the gang's leaders sat with their boys. Skin and Ben were talking when Ben saw them approaching and nodded in their direction. Skin looked up and fell silent, watching the two men approach.

To Skin, Mulder looked like a man walking to his own execution, head up and braced for death. He had to smile. It was too amusing, really. He knew the man expected nothing but the worst and was determined to endure it. There weren't many entertainment opportunities in prison. As the boss, Skin didn't have to worry about anything-food, safety, power-he had it all, but he still had his limits. He was bored. This man-this vulnerable former cop-presented a myriad of entertaining possibilities. 

The whole prison had known he was coming, of course. The grapevine here was second to none. Skin had been mildly curious, but nothing more. Then Ben had complained about his boy Ray's growing concern about his new cellmate. Diverted, Skin asked about it, and Ben relayed the stories that Ray told him. What came through the stories was courage, wit, and a surprisingly dry sense of humor that survived everything that was thrown at it, including the repeated beatings and rapes the man suffered. Skin had been intrigued. He decided to do something about it before the man got himself killed and sentenced Skin to unremitting boredom again.

Skin's eyes roamed over the man approaching, enjoying the sight. He'd gone to Mulder and offered him a bargain. It had been close. The man had almost turned him down. If he had, he would have died soon. The prisoners' anger and hatred of the cop was growing with each attack rather than subsiding. His cock started to harden as he remembered the man's reluctant acceptance and the resultant blow job. The man hadn't wanted to do it, but he did want to live.

Skin didn't care if the man wanted it or not. He did. And he'd get it, too.

The two men had arrived and sat down at the last empty spaces directly across from Skin and Ben. Ben was glaring at Ray. 

"What's he doing here?"

Both men jerked their heads to see Ben, and then turned to face Skin. Skin had to grin again. He kept his eyes on Mulder's as he said "Mulder's my boy now." He saw the almost imperceptible flinch, the slight paling of the fine features, and then a rising tide of 

The other men at the table burst out talking over each other, their voices rising with each question and insult.

"Shut up." Skin's voice was quiet, but everyone heard. They shut up. 

Ben broke the silence finally. "Skin, man, what are you doing? He's a cop."

"No." Skin's eyes never left Mulder's. "He's not. He's a con, just like the rest of us, and he's my boy. He belongs to me, now. Get the word out. Anybody else touches him and they'll regret it."

Ben was the only one to speak up again. "Okay, man, okay. He's your boy." He shifted his gaze from Skin to the tired-looking former cop. He couldn't see it. The man wasn't a born cocksucker, nor was he an obvious challenge. He was just trouble-pure trouble. What the hell was Skin up to?

"Hey, Mulder, you never did finish telling me about that green, liver-eating mutant you went after that one time, what happened, man?" Ray turned to his cellmate expectantly, trying to break the tension.

Mulder didn't want to back down from Skin's gaze, but he couldn't let Ray down like that. He turned to face the man. "He wasn't green, Ray." He told the story again, ignoring where he was and remembering when he was free and doing what he loved. He didn't realize it, but after just a few minutes the others at the table were caught up in the story, too.

Mulder was a good storyteller, and the men were irresistibly drawn out of where they were and into the past, following the curious F.B.I. agent along on his quest. Skin listened, enjoying the tale, but not totally drawn in like the others. He watched the rapt interest in the other men's faces along with the spirited animation in Mulder's as he talked and explained and answered their questions. Seeing them like that, he knew how Ray had gotten caught up with the man, and he knew that Mulder would make his own place with these men in short order. All he had needed was entrance into the group, and Skin had given him that. He sat back to enjoy the show.

On the way out of the dining hall, Skin caught Mulder's arm. The man had been careful not to look at him after Skin's declaration of ownership. Skin knew he couldn't allow his new boy to ignore him. He waited until Mulder looked at his hand, then up at him.

"Come by my cell later." Skin kept his grip on Mulder's bicep firm but not painful. He wanted to make his message clear without scaring the man.

Mulder flushed as he realized all the men nearby waiting to exit the dining hall heard the command. His eyes focused past the other man's face as he gave a little nod. The hand released him and then they were moving out of the hall and making their way to their cells for the after dinner count.

Mulder followed Ray into their cell, thankful that he'd survived. They flopped on their bunks, waiting for the count.

A thought occurred to Mulder. "Ray?"

"Yeah, man?"

"What's Skin in for?"

"Mulder, I don't think you want to go there." Ray's voice was sincere.

"Ray, I think I have to. I have to get some idea of who I'm dealing with here. What did he do?"

Ray sighed and was silent for long moments. "Murder. He's in for murder. Don't ask any more, Mulder. I don't think anybody except him knows the truth, and you definitely don't want to ask him. He's nobody to fuck around with, man. Just do what you have to do and do your time, man. That'll get you out of here in one piece."

Mulder folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He wasn't surprised, not really. He didn't think a guy in for, say. assault, or rape, or robbery maybe would hold the respect a murderer could demand. After all, a man that had done it once... He did wonder what the hell made the man want him, of all the guys here. Was it a bonus to screw the dirty cop? Did it gain him some more respect? He couldn't see it. From what Ray said, Skin already ran the place. He didn't need any extra boosts. He guessed he would just have to ask him.

That thought brought to mind the fact that he was.commanded.to Skin's cell later. He swallowed, his throat suddenly constricted and dry. He didn't think Skin was planning to fuck his ass, not after what he'd said this afternoon, but he'd probably expect at least a blow job.

Mulder didn't really know what to feel about all this. He'd been through so much in so little time that it was all mixed up in his head. He'd come to this prison expecting to be abused and maybe . okay, probably.killed. In his more positive moments he'd thought that maybe if he fought well enough, maybe if he could beat one of the bigger guys, then he'd get some space, enough to make it through his sentence. He hadn't expected they'd come after him in gangs every time. 

It had occurred to him that if he killed one of them, it might get him some respect. The only problem with that was he didn't want to turn into one of them. He was a cop. Even though they had taken the title from him, he wouldn't let them take his identity, too. He wasn't a killer. 

No, he wasn't a killer. Instead, he was a whore. Mulder took a deep breath and swung out of his bunk. Time to go.

Mulder walked up to the cell and addressed the man inside. "You wanted me to come by?"

Skin sat on his bunk, a book in his hands. He looked over at Mulder. "Come in."

Mulder took a couple of steps and stood, shifting his weight uneasily. He didn't know what to expect, and he didn't like it.

Skin took his time looking the man over. He liked what he saw. He liked the fact that the man wasn't comfortable. He didn't want him to be comfortable. He nodded to the bunk next to him. "Sit down, Mulder."

Mulder hesitated then sat down. He surveyed the cell, looking for anything personal, anything that could tell him about the man who now basically owned him. Knowledge was most definitely power, the only power that he could grasp, anyway.

There wasn't much, mainly a few pictures taped to the wall near the head of the bunk too far for him to see and a few books on the single shelf. He couldn't stall any more. He looked at Skin.

Skin lifted his hand to stroke the side of Mulder's face. He waited through the familiar instinctive flinch then resumed exploring Mulder's face with gentle fingertips. He saw the fear that resided in the man's eyes and he wasn't altogether displeased with that, either. He was hard as a rock, and he enjoyed that sensation, too, knowing that relief was close at hand.

Mulder swallowed heavily. He didn't know where this was going, and that scared him. What was the big man up to? What was he going to do to him? His breath came faster, trying to keep up with his racing heart.

Skin's eyes were half-closed, watching Mulder intently as his hand traced Mulder's soft, slightly parted lips. That tempting mouth dropped open on a gasp and Skin took the opportunity to slide two fingers into that wet heat.

Skin issued a soft command. "Suck."

Mulder had frozen in shock at Skin's bold move. He felt the big, masculine fingers filling his mouth, tasting of salt and.man. He searched the man's face and knew he meant what he said. There could be no evasion here. He let his lips close on the fingers and his tongue relax and he started to suck. His eyes dropped to the hand in front of his face and as nothing more happened, he started to relax. This wasn't so bad--kinda weird, but not bad. His gaze flicked up to Skin's face and he felt a curl of warmth wash through his belly at the pleasure he saw there. What the hell? Mulder jerked at the thought that he was enjoying this and pushed it away, unable to deal with it.

Skin saw the surprise in the man's face and surmised the reason. It amused him greatly as well as pleasing him. He was prepared to enjoy this man's body whether he got anything from it or not, but this-this was interesting. His body surged at the thought of turning Mulder's fear and reluctance into pleasure and eagerness, despite himself. Time to move things along. He pulled his fingers from their home with a loud wet pop and smiled at the sound.

"Take off your clothes for me, Mulder."

Mulder's heart began to race again at the soft command. His mind searched again for a way out, but if he left.he was done, and he knew it. He had to stay if he wanted to live-more than that, he had to obey, if he wanted to live.

He forced him mind to go blank as he shifted off the bunk and began to remove his clothes. He guessed Skin had forgotten about his unspoken promise earlier and was getting ready to fuck him. He finished stripping himself and stood, arms hanging at his side, starting to shiver with nerves. He really didn't know if he could do it. It was one thing to survive an attack and quite another to walk into it naked, so to speak.

Skin's smile slowly faded as he watched the frightened, shaking man. He enjoyed had enjoyed the spice of Mulder's fear earlier, but this, this was excessive. This was terror, and he didn't like it. He considered the blank eyes of the man before him and knew he'd gone elsewhere. 

He sighed a soft "damn" and slid from his bunk. He grabbed Mulder in a hug and pulled him back onto the bunk, shifting until he lay on top of him, holding the frantically squirming, gasping man still with his considerable body weight.

Long moments passed and Mulder slowly calmed down. The human body was not designed to stay forever in the fight-or-flight mode. It just couldn't take the stress. Mulder closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to deepen and steady, taking in the spicy masculine scent of the man on top of him with every lungful of air. As the panic began to recede, stray thoughts crossed his mind. Skin was a big man-a big, heavy man. It took a serious effort to expand his chest for each breath. He was warm-hot, really. The heat felt good, thawing some of the chill of fear that still lay on him. He hadn't been hurt. He was naked. He felt safe. Safe? Where the hell had that come from, Mulder thought. But as he thought about it, he had to admit it was true. He felt safe in a way that he hadn't since he'd been locked up-or maybe even before that.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, carefully. He should feel vulnerable, but he didn't. God, was he messed up. He forced himself to meet Skin's gaze. In it he saw something that looked like concern. Don't imagine things, he told himself.

"I told you I wouldn't hurt you." 

Skin's voice was a deep rumble that Mulder felt in his chest. He blinked and searched for an answer. "I don't know you."

It wasn't a direct answer, but Skin understood. "You will." His erection pressed against Mulder's belly insistently, and an idea came to him. 

He shifted position, pulling back and kneeling between Mulder's legs. "Don't move."

His hands went to his fly and he pulled himself free of his pants. "Watch my dick, boy." He started stroking himself slowly, keeping his eyes on Mulder's face.

Mulder obeyed, watching the man pleasure himself. That same curl of warmth came back to him as he saw Skin's hand move over his flushed penis, and the thought came to him that he'd had that in his mouth just hours ago. His mind was dazed and blurred from the aftermath of terror and relief. Sudden warmth on his skin broke through his trance and he knew Skin had come all over his bare chest and belly. The scent of his sex was hot and thick in the air.

Mulder closed his eyes, confused. He knew he should feel ashamed and dirty at being used like that, but he didn't. He felt--no, he didn't want to name that feeling, even to himself.

"Mulder."

Mulder jerked his gaze to the other man.

"I enjoyed that, and so did you. You don't have to respond, boy. I won't expect that of you yet. I do want you to think about it. Think about sucking my cock and why you did it. Think about my fingers in your mouth. Think about undressing for me." 

 Skin's voice was low and powerful. "Think about me jerking off over you. Think about my come on your body. Think about next time. I've said I won't hurt you, and I won't. You'll learn to trust me, Mulder. Now I want you to get dressed and get back t o your cell. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mulder obeyed in a daze, picking up his clothes and jerking them on, then hurrying out of the cell. He needed to hole up and think. He was way past confused here. He kept his head up, watching for trouble. He knew he was supposed to be protected, but he couldn't allow himself to let down his guard. Not yet.

When he reached his cell he saw that Ray was asleep already. Thank God. He was in no state to answer any of his questions tonight. He probably couldn't do it tomorrow, either, but, hey, one day at a time, right? Isn't that how the saying went? Jesus, now he was living by cliche's?

He quickly stripped and cleaned himself up at the sink, trying not to think about what he was doing or why he needed to wash. Finally he fell into his bunk. 

He stared into the dark, thinking about what had happened tonight. He wished he could hide from it, but he knew better. Even if he could have buried it all, he had a feeling that Skin wasn't going to allow that. No. He had to face it. Some part of him had enjoyed it tonight. Some part of him had wanted to give the big man pleasure. He didn't want that to be true, but it was. And Skin had seen that. Oh, God, was he screwed.

Well, not yet, he added to that thought wryly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was getting a lot of practice and this deep breathing thing. Okay, he thought, enough with the evasion. 

Mulder had been attracted to men before. He had accepted that as a part of his life, but he had never let it rule him. He had good reasons for that. So he had stuck to women all his life. Well, a few women anyway. Very few, as a matter of fact. This was different. Here there was no running from it. Skin.did something to him, and he knew it, and he wasn't going to let Mulder get away from it. 

Skin told him to think about what he'd done to him. Mulder thought about the feel of the man's hot cock in his mouth.and the warm hand on the back of his neck. He thought about the man's hard fingers in his mouth.and the sight of him kneeling over Mulder, cock in hand, come spurting onto the smaller man's body. He thought about the man's low, rumbling voice and the calm, confident way he controlled everything and everyone around him. He thought about it, and his body hardened. Breath hissed out of him in a sigh. He was a man with four decades of experience and he was learning new things about himself he wasn't sure he wanted to know. However, like a lot of things lately, he didn't have any choice in the matter. Skin wanted him.and it seemed that he wanted Skin.

The end - part 2

 

* * *

 

Fear 3  
By Tesa  
  
DATE: October 16, 2001  
RATING: NC-17  
CATEGORY: Slash, M/SK, AU, semi-non-con  
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and Skinner belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Television. This is a not-for-profit fictional excursion. Thank you very much.  
SUMMARY: Okay, this is a little different. Definitely AU, Mulder finds himself thrown into prison and meets a powerful con named Walter Skinner. Part 3 - Mulder learns something new about himself  
FEEDBACK: Yes, please.  
ARCHIVE: Yes

* * *

Mulder made his way quickly down the hall, trying to project confidence and don't-fuck-with-me attitude. He kept his head up and his eyes always moving, looking for trouble. Even so, he didn't see it coming. One minute he was walking, the next he felt himself slammed hard against the wall, a big arm jammed against his throat, pulling his head up and back.

The man that held him wasn't too much bigger than he was, but those eyes.those eyes cut right through him. His heart jumped into high gear while he tried to keep his face expressionless. It was like being confronted by a vicious dog - you never show fear.

"Did I say you could walk through my hall, meat?"

The arm that held his throat pressed harder, and Mulder knew he wasn't expected to answer.

"Ace, you better let him down." The voice came from another man standing a few feet away-a big, biker-looking man with long blond hair.

Ace turned his head fractionally. "What for? I think pretty boy here was looking for some action. I'm more than happy to give it to him."

"I heard the boy belongs to Skin now. He won't take it kindly if you mess him up."

"Skin? No way. He wouldn't stick up for this.fuck meat." Ace turned back to Mulder. "Well, boy? You ready to play? Or you wanna tell me you're Skin's punk? And if you lie, you'll wish you'd never been born." He pulled his arm away slightly.

Mulder just couldn't say it.

"You got nothin' to say, huh, boy? I guess that means your ass is mine, now." He roughly shoved Mulder around, forcing his face into the wall and kneeing his legs apart.

Mulder starting fighting in earnest now, but the man had all the leverage. Ace held him against the wall and laughed. Mulder knew he couldn't get out of it, and he knew he couldn't take this, not when he could stop it with a few words.

"I belong to Skin," Mulder gasped out, his face flaming in shame.

Ace snorted, but he eased back. "You do, huh?" He jerked Mulder around to face him, smiling at him, enjoying his discomfort. "I'm just not convinced. Maybe you're lying. Maybe you just want to get away from me, and that hurts my feelings. Tell you what, boy, you tell me you're Skin's bitch, you tell me you suck his cock, and I'll believe you." Ace stood there, grinning at Mulder.

Shit. Mulder dropped his eyes to the man's cheekbones and with blood roaring in his ears said, "I'm Skin's bitch. I suck his cock."

Ace and his friend burst out laughing, and Ace shifted back a couple of steps, freeing Mulder. "Well then. I'm not a man to go after another man's cocksucker, so just run back to your man, boy."

Mulder turned and escaped, shame still burning his skin. He made his way to Skin's cell without further mishaps and stood just outside, trying to compose himself. He needed time, but he didn't have it. Skin had commanded his presence after breakfast, and Mulder had a feeling he wasn't used to waiting.

He moved to the doorway and looked at the big man lounging on the bunk, reading a book. He was big, but not the biggest man here. He didn't look scary, but a smart man only had to spend a few moments watching to tell he was scary. He had a way about him, a kind of confidence and power that made other men step He ran the place and everyone knew it.

He looked up and watched Mulder, his face impassive. "Come in, boy."

Mulder, mired in fear and shame and embarrassment as he was, still spared a moment to wish that everybody would stop calling him a boy. He was over forty, for godsakes'. He stepped in, eyes roaming the cell nervously.

"What happened?"

Mulder started. "What?"

Skin just looked at him.

Mulder folded. "I ran into a guy in the hall. He let me go. No problem."

Skin kept looking.

Mulder ducked his head. God, the man wouldn't let him get away with anything.

"I ran into a guy in the hall. He.. He was going to fuck me if I didn't say I was your.bitch." Mulder got it out, looking intently at the far corner of the cell.

"An ugly word for it, but it is the truth, isn't it, Mulder?" Skin's voice was low and calm. He knew the answer and wanted to hear it.

Mulder swallowed. No, the man wasn't going to give him an inch. "Yeah." He nearly choked on it.

Skin finally smiled. He was hard. "You said it for him."

Mulder looked up. It was a question. "Yeah."

"Say it for me."

That was a demand. Mulder met Skin's eyes. There was no give there. "I'm your bitch." His face reddened again.

Skin almost thought he could come on the words alone-the words, and Mulder's reluctance to say them, his shame at their truth. He sighed with pleasure and finally gave Mulder a break. "I don't like that word either. I prefer the term `boy'. You're my boy, Mulder, and I'm your man. Now let's try again. I want you to take off your clothes for me."

Mulder nervously licked his lips and started to strip. He wasn't as scared as he had been-was it just last night? Yeah. He was starting to believe that this man had told him the truth. He kept his eyes on Skin as he took off his clothes and shoved them aside. He had the irrational feeling that as long as he kept meeting the other man's eyes he could hide from where he was and what he was doing.

Skin watched, enjoying the show. He appreciated the fact that Mulder was steadier today than last night. He wasn't a kind man by any means, but even he didn't take pleasure in absolute terror. Now some apprehension, a little bit of fear, well, that just added to his pleasure in commanding a man, this man, this former cop.

Skin enjoyed the irony of it. He'd always been on the bottom in confrontations with the law. He was planning on enjoying this turnaround for as long as he could wring any drop of pleasure or interest out of it, even if the man wasn't a cop anymore.

His eyes surveyed the lean, sleekly muscled man standing awkwardly before him. He knew the man still wasn't physically ready to be fucked yet. What a shame. Skin couldn't wait to mount him. He imagined the feel of his hard, round buttocks under him, cushioning him, and the hot, tight clasp of the man's asshole, and he sighed, telling himself that he was a patient man. He could wait for that. Anticipation was half the fun. Sure it was.

He sighed again and decided what he wanted. He dropped his feet to the floor and spread his legs widely, making room. "On your knees, boy," he commanded.

Mulder licked his lips and slowly knelt in front of the bigger man. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. His gaze darted down, taking in the growing bulge between the man's thighs, before going back up to meet his eyes.

Skin smiled. He'd seen the nervous glance checking out his crotch. "I want to feel your mouth on my balls and on my dick. Then I want you to suck me off. And take your time, boy." Skin leaned back on his hands, waiting.

Mulder slowly obeyed, forcing his hands to move, to unbuckle and unzip, to reach in hesitantly and gently free Skin's cock and balls from pants and shorts. He shuffled closer, close enough to feel the heat of the man's thighs enclosing him, close enough to smell the rich scent of his sex. He bowed his head and went closer. He had to press his face to the big man's genitals before he was close enough. He took a breath, drawing the scent deep into his lungs and began to lick Skin's balls.

Skin groaned at the soft, slick feel of Mulder's tongue caressing him, sliding around and under his balls, his nose nearly buried in Skin's pubic hair. He looked down at the dark head buried between his legs and almost lost it. Looking away for a moment, he tried distract himself by doing sums in his head. He was going to make this last as long as humanly possible. Maybe longer.

Finally the sliding tongue left his balls for the waiting hard, aching cock. Small licks interspersed with long glides worked their way down and around until finally the tongue gently touched the crown, and Skin groaned out loud again. That was it. He couldn't take anymore. "Take me in your mouth, Mulder, but don't suck yet. Just hold my cock safe in that beautiful mouth of yours."

Startled eyes jerked to meet his momentarily before going back down as the man did as he was told. His mouth opened and he slid his lips down the length of Skin's cock, taking it as deep as he comfortably could.

They stayed like that for long moments, Skin breathing deeply, trying to hold on, Mulder, his hands braced awkwardly on the bed on either side of Skin's legs, his mouth hot and wet around the big man's cock.

He'd been trying not to think as he did what he had to do, what Skin wanted him to do. He'd been moderately successful, almost losing himself in his concentration. Now he had time to think. Kneeling in front of the bigger man, his mouth full of his cock, Mulder forced himself to admit that he wasn't.this wasn't.as bad as he'd feared. Come on Mulder, don't lie to yourself, he thought. Not now. You're getting a sick charge out of this. And he was.

As he was losing his fear of this man and gaining a little trust that he wasn't about to be thrown down, beaten and raped, he was beginning to find the whole situation.interesting. He'd always been curious about what sex with a man would be like, and here it was, being handed to him, so to speak. There was nothing he could do to stop this or change it, so.why not? And Skin.God, the man was power and strength personified. He was big and solid and more man than Mulder had ever seen. Confidence and control, this man had it all, and Mulder had to admit that he was drawn to that. It calmed him, gave him a sense of safety and security that he couldn't remember ever having before.

Being the cop, trained observer and psychologist that he was, he knew that all this could be no more than a mirage, a result of the so-called Stockholm Syndrome in which a hostage identifies with his captor in sheer mental and physical self-defense. It very well could be. But he didn't think so. He thought wryly that there was simply an unexpected kink to his sexual identity that he'd never dreamed of before this.

Mulder held Skin's cock in his mouth and liked it.

"Boy, look at me." Skin shifted to free his hands, laying them gently on Mulder's dark hair.

Mulder lifted his eyes, wondering what was next.

"I'm going to thrust a bit deeper in your mouth. I want you to relax and take it. I'll go in just a bit, for just a second. You might gag, but I want you to remember that I'm not going to choke you, and I'm not going to suffocate you. I've got a use for you, after all." Skin smiled, amused.

Mulder felt his heart kick up its beat, but he believed him. The man didn't want him dead, especially since he hadn't even fucked him yet. His eyes signaled his understanding and Skin still smiled as he gave a slow, gentle thrust into Mulder's mouth, maybe an inch or two deeper than was comfortable.

Mulder fought back the instinctive gag reflex, trying to accommodate the intrusion, trying to take it, and he did. Skin pulled back.

"Good boy. Now I'm going to do it again, I'm going to give you some slow thrusts, and I'll go deeper every time. I won't stay long. Relax, Mulder, and just take it. Relax, boy." He began again, giving the boy the slow, gentle thrusts he'd promised, gradually going deeper, giving the man time to breathe in between. He still didn't give it all to him, but there was time. Oh, yes, they had the time. But now.now, Skin was ready to come.

"All right, boy. I'm going to give you one last deep thrust, and then I'll pull back and come in your mouth. I want you to swallow it all. Swallow everything I give you, Mulder. You hear me?"

Mulder blinked his eyes deliberately and tried to relax his throat as Skin thrust deep. His throat constricted automatically, and gagging, Mulder started to choke, but Skin pulled back smoothly and grunted as he came, filling Mulder's mouth with his hot semen.

Skin held onto the man's head until he swallowed it all, then slowly, reluctantly pulled back, out of his mouth. "That felt great, Mulder. Thank you. You're a quick learner. A bit more practice and I know you'll be the best cocksucker I ever had." He tucked himself away and sprawled back on the bed. Relaxed and satisfied, he finally noticed that the man kneeling in front of him was half hard. At that sight, his mouth quirked in a smile and he felt a flare of heat in his belly.

"I want you here every morning after breakfast. You'll suck me off like a good boy, and we'll see how quickly you can learn to deep-throat me." He saw Mulder glance up, a questioning look on his face before he blanked it out. "Question?"

Mulder swallowed nervously. Did he really want to bring this up? But he had to know. "When.when do you plan to.."

"Fuck you?" Skin was amused. "Don't worry, boy. We'll get to that. I told you that I don't intend to hurt you more than I have to, and I meant it. I'll give you a few days, maybe a week, and then I'll take a look at your ass, see if you're ready for me. And in the meantime, you'll learn to suck my cock like a professional."

"Now go on. I'll see you at lunch."

Mulder turned as he rose, trying to hide his semi-hard cock, and hurriedly pulled on his clothes. He needed to go to ground and think. With one last glance back at the man lying on the bunk, he left.

In the days that followed, time behaved oddly for Mulder. He dutifully appeared at Skin's cell every morning after breakfast and practiced his newly learned skills and was duly rewarded with a bellyful of hot semen along with Skin's smile and gentle praise. Then he was dismissed. The time spent on his knees in front of the big man seemed vivid and bright and went quickly, while the rest of the day remained as gray and dull as the cement floor of the prison and dragged on forever.

No one bothered him. Every man knew who owned him, even the guards. Mulder saw their gloating smirks as he sat at Skin's table, and the knot of shame that lived in his belly grew a little bigger.

He was torn. In conflict, his training submitted. He'd lived his life alone, basically. His parents-well, they had done their duty, providing food and shelter, but nothing more. After his sister. disappeared, his life.got worse. They blamed him, really, for being there while she was gone. He had always known she was the favorite, but it had been all right, because she was his favorite, too. His mother preferred to ignore him when she wasn't looking at him with accusing eyes. His father-no, he couldn't think about that.

He went to college alone, went to the F.B.I. alone, did his work alone. Yes, there had been women, a very few, but mostly because it was expected, Mulder thought now. He'd never really invested much into those relationships. He had a few friends-Scully and the Lone Gunmen, anyway, along with the occasional college friend and professional acquaintance-there were a few that didn't believe him to be crazy.

The point of it all, he thought, was that he'd never allowed himself to be totally vulnerable. He had been afraid, afraid of being rejected, afraid of being hurt, afraid of being told that he wasn't good enough, afraid of losing the only thing he had-his career, Mulder had never even admitted to himself what he wanted, what he needed.

He wanted a man. He needed.. God, this was hard. He needed a man that could take control when he couldn't give it up. He needed a man that would force him to take exactly what he wanted.

Every morning he went to Skin's cell and sucked him off, and he loved it. He loved stripping for the man, sinking to his knees in front of him, taking his hard cock in his mouth, learning to take it deeper in his throat, hearing the sounds of his pleasure, the groan when he came, filling Mulder's mouth with his hot semen. He loved the strong hands that cupped his face or threaded through his hair as he went down on him. He loved watching the big man settle back on the bed, limp and satisfied. He loved the rumble of deep voice that thanked him and sent him away.

At first it had just been a little warmth in his belly, a stirring of his sex. Now he was hard before he stripped, and he stayed that way throughout the blow-job. He knew Skin had noticed. It would be impossible for him not to notice. He hadn't said anything or so much as given a pointed glance or grin at Mulder's reaction. It was that lack of acknowledgement that defused Mulder's shame and embarrassment. Skin's deliberate blindness gave him time to begin to understand what was happening to him and to accept it.

He wasn't so much becoming a wholly different person as he was finally recognizing there was something out there he'd never known he wanted. It was hard. He thought he'd known who he was. He'd been wrong. He knew that he should feel terrified, horrified, disgusted, ashamed, everything that a rape victim was supposed to feel. He didn't. He couldn't.

Realizing he wasn't the man he always thought he'd been-well, that was the difficult part. Admitting it, accepting it, understanding and allowing himself to look forward to serving Skin every morning-that was the nearly impossible part. He gave a wry little smile, laughing at himself. Luckily for him, he didn't have a choice.

End part 3

  
Archived: November 02, 2001 


End file.
